


All The Time

by ChroniclyFlaming



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChroniclyFlaming/pseuds/ChroniclyFlaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Cell, pre-Buu. #18, after having had to listen to her brother going on and on about how good human relationships can be, decides to shows up one night at Kame House to verify those claims. Krillin is all too happy to help her find out if there's any truth to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Time

**Author's Note:**

> The Prompt: Krillin/18
> 
>  
> 
> Post-Cell, pre-Buu. #18 shows up on a night where Krillin is alone at Kame House, and tells him that she wants to have sex with him(due to her brother going on and on about how good it is). Femdom, as Krillin would be too busy being stunned and shocked to even consider taking control. 18's just focused on having the sex, while Krillin's being all loving and sweet and giving her compliments all the time.
> 
> The Fill:

 

"As though you know!"

"As though _you_ know!"

Complete with pointing at one another.

"…"

"No, seriously. Have you been fucking someone?"

Her brother's expression became chiding, smug, superior. "A gentleman does not kiss and tell."

"Was it at least a mammal?"

"It was more than a mammal, Juuhachigou. You have no idea."

"Multiple mammalian life forms?"

"One. That's all that was needed. For now."

"I don't want to hear anymore."

But Juunanagou's smile was disgusting, prurient, revolting.

It was a curse, having a sibling. All the more when it was a twin. There are few scattered memories of a childhood in another life that Gero hadn't completely removed. One involves probably robbing a bank, but there was also one of pushing her brother's face into a cake that she couldn't eat for some reason. Of him knocking over an ice cream cone rather than give her a single taste. Should she even think about their trip to find Goku, there was that long, unending and fruitless trip because he wanted to drive and Juuhachigou wanted to punish him by almost hoping they would never find the alien. He had probably dared her to rob that bank.

' _So there'_ really was a large sum of their relationship.

"It isn't that good."

"No. Juuhachi, there's a reason why humans are so obsessed with it. Why they do so much for it."

There was poison in her head. _Oh, yes, they do. Like grovel. Like make dumb frightening wishes. Like crush remotes._

Juuhachigou had to strangle that voice.

But knew that Juunanagou was partially correct.

"You've never felt better. Not even with the shower attachment."

" _Shut up_!"

Nevermind the warmth suddenly on her face. Or her jackass brother. Or any of this nonsense. She wasn't human, and neither was he, so why even think about that? Even just to use another person, why expose yourself if only in some meaningless way. It was a nothing act, even most human had to understand that, how little physical contact could be. Because it felt good?

…How good?

"You should probably find that out, sis."

Had she spoken aloud?

"Really, you should find someone to fuck. If only to get you out of the house."

Idiot.

Like she needed a useless human/dildo to preoccupy herself. For what, exactly, that would equal her general anxiety when talking to someone aside from asking where the dressing room was or telling them to get away from her. Did she even want to begin taking catalog of the last time she'd had a real conversation with someone other than her brother, meaning with someone that knew what she was? And that wasn't trying to eat her—which might have crossed Krillin off that previous list.

But who in their right mind would listen to Juunanagou when it came to…anything? Let her brother get a humiliating STD; he would deserve it.

She had never really touched anyone in a moment that wasn't of desperation or to not hurt that person.

Another shallow fact, as dumb as the flicking lights in the kitchen or what she may or may not use the shower attachment for or that dumb jacket Juunanagou took to wearing, with its horrible fringes.

But it wasn't like she couldn't _find_ someone.

Really, the mystery was that Juunanagou had talked someone into going anywhere with him, let alone gone somewhere and taken their clothes off with him. What a fucked up individual that was. Juuhachigou would have a wider net than having to settle for some deranged psycho that her twin had slept with.

She could go to any bar, like she did occasionally do if previously only alongside her sibling. Actually respond to the men that came up to her in a positive manner rather than threatening to stab them with a bottle should they ever talk to her again—then following through on that promise. It wouldn't be easy to nod and smile and pretend like she cared, but for sake of curiosity and boredom, why not? Find anyone and maybe a flat surface depending on the strength of that man. Muscles, yes, there would be muscles and hair that had more product in it than her own and a perfect, handsome face, maybe longish hair, blonde, darker than her own. Grey eyes? Yes, why not?

But when she tried to even picture the man in some fantasy, in a dirty bathroom of some dive bar, the shape was unpleasant. Kept slipping from her hands downward, and not in a way she wanted. And even in that fantasy, (which did nothing for her sexually to be honest) Juuhachigou had to grab that sorry useless bastard up and keep them in place. Less than her pillow, but still the cyborg crushed the make believe man to pieces. Goddamnit. Too much power to live like a normal person, but not enough to have completed the mission programmed into her.

Then, of course, the fighters would come looking for her if the path of destruction was too high. Some of them were in the city, and might hear of it after all.

Anyone that was strong enough was pathetic or disgusting and unthinkable. No, Juuhachigou would not be doing any of _that_ mess. There was no one interesting enough that would also be able to not be broken into pieces by her. There was _no one_ -

Oh god.

There was someone.

Oh god.

Someone that would take that beating relatively well, physically speaking. Take it even better emotionally and psychologically.

Oh god, _no_.

The trap that had been laid for her, on that strange platform of magic dragon genies and palm trees. Krillin had created it, half-knowing-fully-hoping, and maybe it had caught her after all. She had said she might see him again, and wherever Krillin was, he was probably stretching for the calendar to mark off the days.

And if she did go back, if only to peak in on him and remember that no, no fucking way was she going to have sex with that, what did that mean? As though just going to his home, god knows where, to inspect him and remind herself that he was not handsome and was way too short and that voice, c'mon, that _voice_ , wasn't so great either.

But what in her life was going so well anyway?

No. _No._

Juuhachigou found herself flying again, mind empty, aimless, when not in her bedroom looking at the walls. Or hearing her twin on the phone, making threats, calling someone, being so obvious about why he was calling and that he was going to visit that person, and that was why she didn't dare hit *69 and find out who was on the other end.

Sixty–nine.

Fuck.

How would she even go _about it_ , if only in some fantasy vision. Like when she would murder Juunanagou with an ax. Just show up, _where?,_ and drag him somewhere. Pull off his gi or something worse and even brighter, and grabbing his cock and slipping it inside her. And her wearing a skirt maybe, to make it easier, or jean to yank off. Momentarily. Was that all it was? Completely neglecting the fact that he might be with others, might, yes, be seeing someone else or maybe even just not wanting to fuck on command, especially considering she was a cyborg that he'd seriously considered destroying and hadn't seen in over a year. At the least, wouldn't it take a few minutes for him to get in a state of arousal—or thirty seconds. Would she have to take off her shirt? His would have to be removed. Then shouldn't she get a moment for herself, to get worked up, especially for him?

I have been sitting here, thinking basically, _basically_ , about Krillin. And his penis. Let's not even lie about that fact. That shrimp of a man that stood there, shaking in his literal boots as I approached him. He didn't even try to fight or get away, just turned slightly. I could have murdered him.

His cheek had been so smooth.

Oh god.

She stood there, a young woman of middling height, in blue jeans, holding a cup of lukewarm coffee, colder than this sudden rush that had to be making her face red. Juuhachigou wanted to sink into this old armchair, and just focus on the outdoors that she despised. Really take in that rotting log and the pale bugs squirming under it. Maybe take a walk and get mud all over her shoes and fall down a cliff, and it would really lighten her day to be attacked by a confused owl, because nature was _fucking awful_.

Do all the things that made up her life, and deny that there was even a chance to change any of it.

Goddamnit.

It could take a while. A long while. Small talk, he would want to talk and ask questions such as _why_ and _where have you been_ and _can I marry you, please_.

Duct tape would have to be brought with her. No, he didn't have a nose and would suffocate before anything serious happened.

Fuck. No, she could find someone else. Anyone else. No, not anyone else. But still. She had options. A tall man with a shock of brown hair. Dimple in his chin. Blue eyes and high cheekbones and a grin with dimples. Handsome to the point of distraction in public. One tip to the ego was the unnecessary five o'clock shadow that he would thankfully not allow to become a beard. People would comment on what a nice-looking couple they made. Her brother would remind her, restrain her after every stupid word that came from those full lips that she could always hump-and-dump him. No, he _could_ _never_ understand why she and her brother had numbers for names. Please get rid of him. Would anyone ever find the body?

Her brother probably didn't even have anyone. It was another elaborate joke. Who would do such a thing with Juunanagou, who couldn't act like he didn't have serious temporal lobe problems in public? Her brother couldn't buy groceries without visibly disturbing someone emotionally, and this was to whom she turned to discuss her problems? That she took advice concerning her sex life? That she was now seriously considering listening to, and not just in matters of hiding bodies and theft?

Why had she even listened to Juunanagou, ever? It was his fault they'd gotten absorbed by Cell. After watching him kill Gero, and after beating up the fighters, Juuhachigou should have taken charge. Before, really; she would have gladly killed the old man with her own hands. Then they could have, what, gone straight after Goku? What would the point of that be?

Never mind that Krillin took on a sudden _seedy_ association in her mind. Anonymous sex in a public bathroom. Zippers being slid down in a rush. Grabbing hips and bending over. No words but grunts and commands. Different than before, when he'd been solely an irritant. That dork with the crush on her, something uncomfortable on her spine, his utter ridiculousness. So what if she was curious about the exact flush that might come to his face. He wasn't even naked in her fantasies.

Really, she wasn't even sure where Krillin lived. There was Sons address rolling around in her head, but little else. Some island. And Capsule Corp of course. Yes, Juuhachigou could maybe find him. But then what? At those places—where people could see them and assume things?

Was he ever alone?

Probably, when he was in the shower. Unless he did have a girlfriend. As clearly, Krillin might not be so unspeakably terrible to imagine naked. All pasty and molted pink—not a great road to go down. But Juuhachigou _could_ picture showing up at his house, and there being a little girlfriend there. Someone perky and soft that loved him dearly and held his hand at every moment of the day, that followed him from room to room and they had this co-dependent relationship that everyone thought was _adorable_. 'Oh, hey, Juu—was it Juuhachigou? Android Number Eighteen? Or was it Seventeen? No? How've you been? This is Elizabeth. We're expecting our first child in November.' Even he would know how nice sex was then, if he didn't already.

Probably didn't.

Most likely didn't.

Then what could she do, but sulk some more? Or break them up. Murder that other woman, and that would be a mercy killing for her. Go to Hell, Elizabeth.

Then have sex with him. _Victory_ sex.

Though, them having any sex might be a victory. For him, not her. But they had not killed each other, had survived Cell despite Vegeta's general terribleness, and just living when others were gone might deserve something. Over a year, but why not let that moment be an anniversary present to them both. But mostly for him.

Krillin would do whatever she wanted, sexually—no, in any manner of speaking. So long as it fell short of murder. Him trembling and about to collapse when they first met, that kiss that had been the real trap for them both to fall in and get stabbed by a million punji sticks, and later him jumping out from behind a corner to be, again, absolutely useless. Even now, she still had only the slightest idea of why he'd done that, to spare her then. Was he so naïve not to understand—no, he couldn't have comprehended that she would have rather have been killed by his hand than absorbed by Cell. Krillin had thought there would still be time for her to get away.

They might do what hadn't even been the subtext to his feelings, so stunted and uncomfortable for everyone. What that moron Yamcha had cheered for them to do, because Krillin was a man and thoughtful one that had expected so little, and she was a woman that wasn't so evil anymore. That they would have sexual relations, fornicate, screw, as so many other humans did as though he weren't strong enough to destroy the Earth and hadn't been to another planet where he'd died for the second time and she weren't a cyborg created and still strong enough to murder him.

Unless he did have a girlfriend.

Then she would just roll her eyes and leave, then mope about at home and never explain to Juunanagou what her problem was anyway.

She sat on the roof, one leg crossing the other and toying with her ankle.

It wasn't entirely _his_ fault. Not completely. Neither Krillin nor Juunanagou could be entirely blamed for this sudden shift, this sudden admission; it wasn't like she had been living like a celibate _monk_. And it wasn't like there weren't other men, ones that she wouldn't necessarily destroy completely. But she could close her eyes and see that idiot that had gotten under her skin in a way that Vegeta and his pathetic bragging could only dream of accomplishing. All these moments she knew and had seen despise never being there. Pictures and videos specifically of _him_ , of him with others, of him with her. They had never been alone together.

'I wanted to spar a little.' Then stick her hand down his pants.

No.

Maybe.

Show up one evening, with wine and in a nice dress. Recline against the doorway and meet his eyes. 'Dinner? Because I'm for dessert.'

Ugh. Please no. Stand there in that dress and hit herself with the wine bottle over and over again. 'No, don't even look at me, shrimp. This never happened.' Beat him to death after pulling the eyes out of his head for punishment for having seen her losing her mind. Psychotic. This is why his friends had warned him to stay away from her. Because she really was nothing more than a broken, angry violent doll. That wine bottle would break on the first impact, who was she kidding?

Instead, Juuhachigou could spite them all. Make Gero spin in his grave. Dates, slowly wooing him and having a long, moderately healthy relationship with hand holding and public affection and other horrifying things that just the thought of made her want to take anax to her own head? Go along with his whiny demands for normalcy and monogamy and anniversaries.

I will murder him before it gets to that point. Never mind if I make everyone right about me.

Lure him to a hotel room, with a trail of…grape soda? Goddamnit, Gero, so unnecessary eclectic with useless facts. No, lure him with pictures of her in increasingly little clothes and dumber poses. He would follow them with his tongue sticking out, all the way into her trap, and she would spend a moment cackling about his stupidity like any supervillian might, before ordering him to strip.

Or just go to him and inform him of her urge to fuck.

'Right now? With _me_?'

'No, no, the other Krillin. Moron.'

That was exactly how it was going to go. With her hands cupping the back of his head that would turn red as a tomato. Uncomfortable at first. Stumbling and they'd make asses out of themselves. Laughing during clumsiness. Krillin would be charming and she would be sweet. In the morning, coffee and waffles, before the others woke up. Repeat:…often.

Only, there was the matter of finding the short fighters. He was not at Capsule Corp, as best she could tell, with her cap low to cover her eyes and hopefully her face. Between that and her having to run away so quickly, Juuhachigou had to admit that her reconnaissance had not been the best. All that was there was a screaming Vegeta, who had been arguing with Bulma, only to turn alarmingly red-faced and to reach for a picnic table nearby. To the blue-haired woman's screams as he nearly fell over and a small toddler's laughter.

A stroke, _a heart attack—_ Juuhachigou had no idea. None of it had been caused by her, as far as she could tell.

But it seemed to be a bad omen.

At Son's, that was also a crapshoot. She bought a different hat and binoculars, and hoped she looked like a person on a bird watch. Aware of dirt, of nature, and how much she despised animals as she stood, then ducked down on her stomach in a grassy field and looked for any sign of a shiny head. There was an infant running around, screaming, wailing, as he fled from his mother and older brother and grandfather, but no Krillin to help them. Or perhaps he was lying curled inside after having to deal with the Son craziness. Juuhachigou swatted flies, checked for grass stains, and decided to move on.

She was running out of places.

And if he were in a city, like a normal person might, then what could she do? Post an ad in the newspapers, tape up fliers. 'One cyborg seeks a bald loser with dumb friends, a ridiculous grin, in good physical shape.' Imagine the responses. But even a reasonable facsimile, should the blonde actually find such, wouldn't work. No, it had to be him. All or nothing.

She had not come without shouting distance of Vegeta for naught.

But still, she made a mental note to specify which android was seeking that bald loser.

There was only one place left on her list that she hadn't yet come to. One so out of the way that if she was seen, it would be harder to argue her way out of. Not that she couldn't simply play the entire deal off. Watch from a safe distance above. How many people might be there, though? Could she be so lucky as to find him alone? Alone, and doing what Juuhachigou herself had been doing when no one else was around. That would really be too perfect, but the odds might be in her favor.

He better goddamn be there. Ugh, that idiot had the worse luck too. Remember all the dying and beatings? Krillin would probably be gone. Out babysitting or shopping for dumb t-shirts. When he would finally show up, she would be long gone and he would be his usual annoying self. Moping about still being a virgin, gee whiz how come nothing ever worked out for _him_. Never knowing what he'd missed out on.

Juuhachigou thus planned accordingly.

Even in the middle of the night, it was day-glow, hideous salmon and red. Children's toys littered the beach, and Juuhachigou knew again that there was something wrong with her for nearly hyperventilating over that fact. But the toys were heavily reinforced, chewed upon, and burnt, and she surmised that they might belong to the kids she'd seen with the others. Half-Saiyans.

There might be a wife and child in that house, though. Somehow. Maybe he'd married someone who already had a kid. They could exist. There were magic dragons that brought people back to life, why not a universe that gave Krillin exactly what he wanted. Hell, she was here, and planning to have sex with him, so why pretend there were laws of common sense and dignity.

Fucking Elizabeth, or Eliza, or Jessica, with layered hair thick enough to lose fingers in, brown, darker than her hazel eyes, slightly tan, minor freckles over her round button nose, with her normal family life and college education and normal job that gave almost too many hours, but that was okay, because Krillin always did his best to bring her lunch so they could have a moment together each day. Let's not even get into her figure and how well she got along with her siblings, the older responsible brother and her caring little sister.

Juuhachigou thought of her, hands on the window to this house that sure wasn't hers, all but wearing a stocking cap on, and had spent too long picking out dark clothes, making sure they were ironed for some reason she couldn't explain now, and her twin hadn't even asked what that was all about. He'd been too busy waiting for his time with that iron, and she herself didn't even want to know about his own life. They had simply exchanged looks before closing the door behind them, and for a moment, if they had been different people, might have high-fived.

He better be here, goddamnit. Or she would make him regret every having learned to walk.

His room was on the right, upstairs. Clean and lacking in furniture. Like a normal bed. Which even she, the cyborg, had one of. But that was definitely Krillin there, curled up on what looked like only a fluffy white comforter with a pillow under his head. Alone.

Unless his successful wife is out of town on a business meeting. Their child was not in that room full of women's underwear, but also gone with her. Or was in a room that lacked windows. Underground bunker. But no, no sane adult would allow a kid to live in this House of Porn and Underwear. There might be a girlfriend, maybe, someone sick or crazy or lacking in standards that would date a man that lived in this small room without a bed, a sad place surrounded by filth.

Juuhachigou wanted to bash her head repeatedly against the wall.

But, no, give herself some credit.

Flings had to be beyond Krillin, who had all but fallen for her after a peck on the cheek. Should a girl even imply she didn't mind his life and looks, he would have—tried proposing, gotten rejected, and found himself alone again.

Krillin was rolling over, as though knowing he was being watched, knowing he was being needlessly insulted. The moon coming in, flooding around her body, and disgusting that her hand was on the glass as though reaching for him and not to necessarily cause pain. But still, he looked good in the pale light, reasonably good. Thick eyebrows not drawn to one angry line, the six dots that marked him gone, mouth open and lips all slack and making her appreciate the soft indenture of muscles there. Probably drooling- him, not her. Ears large, but fitting for that large round head of his.

Maybe good there was no bed, since they might destroy it. They would wallow for tonight, and then she would run away and never return.

The front door was a no-go, considering how rusty the hinges looked. The next way in was through a window, and she refused to sneak into the bathroom, especially given the small that entrance was. All she needed was to slip on something and go crashing into the shower and probably through a wall. But the downstairs had a bay window open just wide enough, just silent enough, for her to get in. Juuhachigou tried not to remember that bank job, thought at least it seemed like they had gotten away with it.

There was someone on the couch, asleep with a porno magazine on his head. The turtle hermit. The man that had taught so many of the Earth's fighters. Proto-Krillin, should he not rethink some things.

Although, why did she even care if he took to wearing a turtle shell and collecting porn? Did that reflect badly on her?

Juuhachigou crept around the furniture. But she didn't find any sign, obvious sign, down here of any woman necessarily _living_ here.

Though there were some things like the recipes posted up, the oven mitts, the state of neurotic cleanness, that were so unlike her own home that it made her uneasy. But there was no reason to believe a woman cared about this place that much, god knows she wanted to suddenly open and spill that bag of flour there with its neat clip. The floorboards had not only been swept, but shined up _, waxed_. Someone, people, cared and had loved this building. Cared enough to put up magnets on the fridge and there was no diseased vegetables in the sink left to rot or holes in the walls or ceilings.

The stairs were creaky though. She had to tap into her energy to the slightest degree to float around them. Then find his room. Wince at the loud doors. Repress the sight of a pig snuggling with an armful of woman's underwear. Ignore the pictures of fighters hanging up on the wall, so _many_ of them snapshots of Goku, with the tall man mugging for the camera, one where a chewed cigar hanging of his mouth while he laid his cards out before the pile of poker chips, or with his arm around someone or not even noticing that someone was watching him as he tried to figure out the remote controller. Though, there was a rather pretty drawing of Kame House up there too.

His room was the small lightly painted box as the rest of them. Less dirty magazines and underwear. There he was. _Existing._

Not much on the walls. A poster. A few pictures. So very clean and scrubbed. Well, he had been a celibate monk at one time. And now he lived in some strange ascetic home filled with porn and hedonism. It was a mixed message, she had to say.

She resisted the urge to rummage through his things, especially paw through his clothes to find anything decent for him to wear after this or for her to steal, or for dirty magazines that specifically belonged to him. Instead, Juuhachigou settled for looking and not finding any pictures in frames of woman that she didn't know. A mark of pride that she didn't throw out most of his wardrobe.

Asleep, round empty dreaming of sugar plums and gum drops.

Not waking, even as she closed the door and crouched down next to him. Shocked herself with how almost-happy, how much she'd _missed_ that dopey face, how fond she was of him overall, with his drooling and how he had no idea that she was here. If Juuhachigou wanted, she could have found a permanent marker and drawn something humiliating on him, or just that she'd been here—maybe she still would, and she could write that '18 was here' with an arrow pointing to his junk. Something that Krillin would get a tattoo of.

Juuhachigou could put her head on the sheets and watch him. Feel the heat of his body, smell that warm pale skin and love that he slept in his underwear. His abdominals and chest would make a saner person do something crazier than this. A compress on his leg, was that what that was? Still fighting? He could never know this thrill of sitting above him, watching his round face at peace.

Every time they met, he was either frightened/angry or frightened/upset or hopeful/frightened.

They could never just be around each other, without thinking of some interior motive the other had. Well, even now she wasn't exactly here to bask in his presence and listen to him go on about his friends' lives. Still, though, Juuhachigou was here, and with something more interesting in mind than a sleepover or to ask for a cup of sugar.

When he woke up, Krillin was going to _freak out_.

You know that don't you? That he will scream and panic and this will all end horribly? Do you want others to see you here, with him? You may even cause him a heart attack or a stroke. No, alright, you won't be his death, but it will be so awkward when he wakes up. You can leave now. No one will know.

No. She wasn't going to be afraid. Not about _Krillin_. This was a man beneath her contempt, and she chose to lay with him, that was _her_ choice. Juuhachigou would not be cowardly around him. This was what she wanted and would have. And if necessary, she could cover his mouth to muffle his terrified screams.

There was a line of hair, just a dusting of black hair on his lower stomach, below his belly button. A new thing to add to her list, when it came to what she wanted from men: Krilln's body hair, specifically this line right here. Juuhachigou could feel every individual hair against her lips. Take a moment to notice this present. Smell him and feel the warmth of his body and know that at least in this room, at this moment, things were alright. Admittedly, this was something a person could get used to.

As was this, the gulf and weight of his penis against her hand, through the fabric of his boxers that were so easy to maneuver her fingers into. Hers, to use as she wished, wasn't that basically what Krillin had said up there on that white tiled place whose name she still didn't know. If not exactly. But that he was offering himself to her, to try to make her normal and happy, and this might do both. Juuhachigou would return this gift. Fuck each other into happiness.

It was ridiculous, this organ. That she was here, monitoring his heartbeat, capable of seeing his face so clearly in the dark, and holding his soft cock, playing with the foreskin. Seeing his twitching eyes. Taking in things like the silky feeling of his skin and the muscles of his leg and how she shouldn't have just kissed him there on that mountain highway, but at least shoved a hand down his shirt to touch his stomach and trace the lines of his chest. The span of that chest. Still, even in person, Krillin had made her greedy. This was nice. All of this.

Even the taste of him was non-offensive. Or the roughness of his pubic hair against the tips of her fingers, against the back of her hand. All things that Juuhachigou could appreciate, and a part of her wanted to sink into the floorboards, because she was blowing Krillin, and enjoying all of this dumbness. His dumbness. Let him take a million pictures of this to put up on that wall and replace the ones of Goku.

His only response was to settle a hand on her head, fingers against her ear.

As though this was almost normal, perhaps even _expected_ , and that alone nearly made her stop. Until he was squirming a little, asleep mostly still, but at least his body was into this. Right now. Would he just grab the back of her head and hold her still, and think for even a second, even in his fantasy, that he were in charge?

Grunting stopping. The sound of his voice, sleepy, almost made her pause. "Juuhachigou."

Keening and pitiful.

Damn right.

Eyes cracking open. Black as any shadow in this room, and strange the thrumming of anticipation and fear that went through her stomach. She had not prepared enough for this. An idiot to think this would not end with both of them humiliated. Rejection. Could still taste him in her mouth. No, his eyes really did seem to be about to fall out of their sockets and burst on the floorboards. " _Juuhachigou_?"

His hand hit the wall, and then he seemed to become fully aware as he almost sat up. " _What the hell_? Juuhachigou?"

He finally noticed that his penis was out, and right by her face. "Juuhachigou."

Krillin literally pinched himself. Then tucked himself away.

She hadn't even known his voice could rise so high. "Oh, Dende, are you're _actually here_?"

Glass was soon to shatter. Everyone would wake up and come running and see them like this. She really should have brought duck tape. Who the hell was Dende?

She let it pass. "Does that mean you have a lot of dreams where this happens?"

"Ye—not exactly. No. Kami, no." He held his hands up, as though they would protect the rest of him.

Juuhachigou wanted to go back to when he was asleep. Keep him that way. Should have stuck with getting some toys and disregarding the entire human race. Especially Krillin, who looked ready to puke. Puke and run away.

The blonde woman could just imagine it. Him fleeing in his underwear to who-knew-where (Capsule Corp, where the others would remember seeing what might have been a blonde one creepily watching them, and Vegeta, don't you remember how much you hate that android…) and leaving her to sit here. She would rummage through his clothes then. Maybe set the place on fire in retaliation for spurning her. All she'd done for him, and that was how he thanked her. The crazy ex- he'd never actually dated.

"What were you doing?"

Could have thrown herself out of the window. Could have never gone here. Found some other guy, a Steven, who was taller than her, and didn't know what she was, and Juuhachigou would find that a relief. Someone that wouldn't look at her this way.

"You."

For a moment, she was convinced her really had fainted. That boneless flop. She had given someone else a stroke. How would she explain this to anyone that might ask, if not is vengeful friends than her twin brother? 'How did it go?' 'I literally murdered him.' 'Way to go, who was it? Juu? Juu?' Just jumping on someone as nervous as Krillin was such an obviously stupid thing to do. Shaking hands with him would probably push him towards a mental collapse.

"Me?" He sounded miles away.

Which is where Juuhachigou should be, as well.

Not slobbering over him. Almost literally. Could have been literally. If he'd just gone along with it. If only he were back to gibbering. Silence: deafening. Defeating. She could just scream and run away right now. Back through a window. Through a wall. "I could just l _eave_. You think I can't find someone else?"

"Uh, I'm sure you could. Do you? Are you seeing someone?"

"That's not the point!"

Now Krillin was reaching out to touch her forehead. Ghosting over her eyebrows and tucking back away that annoying strand of hair that kept falling into her eyes. "'Me,' huh. You came back here for me."

Strange how flat he sounded. Rather than starry-eyed and pleading for more. Still half-asleep maybe, or in shock. Why not ' _me,'_? 'Me.' Yes. Stroking her ears. Okay? Okay.

They both nearly jumped when his mouth finally found her. Pressure of that, upper and lower, to her cheek. A parody. Juuhachigou waited. His breathe on her skin, and _nuzzling_ her. Carefully cupping the back of her head as he kissed her forehead over and over again. Fingers over her scalp, nails scraping a pattern. Then he found an ear. Pathetic, the noises she was now making, until Krillin found her mouth again. No tongue even, and she could have cheerfully murdered the fighter for that.

"We…mm. We don't have to do anything. I'm just so happy you're here. I never thought I'd see you again. You can't believe how…I was so sure that we'd never get to talk again. I looked for you, really, I came this close to putting up posters." The relieved smile that she did her best to smother with her mouth. Krillin flinched at her pushing him back down again. Or maybe it was the force of her tongue over his teeth.

Eventually, paid attention to his struggles, Juuhachigou moved to his neck so he wouldn't suffocate.

Hands on her shoulders. As giddy as a schoolgirl. Literally breathless. "You're so _strong_."

She didn't have to take off her shirt to get him in a state of arousal. Such a clinical term for this sweaty desperate state. What had separated them was slipping away. Despite Krillin's protests.

"Is this a good step in our relationship?"

What?

"Just hopping into bed like this? No, we shouldn't. Really. This is a bad precedence. We should get to know each other better before making such a huge step."

Juuhachigou took off her shirt, and somehow, Krillin still managed to put up a fight.

You had to admire him, glassy eyes or not. He knew, deep down, what this was: hump-and-dump. And Krillin wanted to be wooed. Flowers and valentines and anniversaries. Coffee and waffles in the morning. Rather than her pulling her clothes off and turning to the window after telling him to never speak of this again.

Putting up a fight, a challenge, playing hard to get. Fine. It wouldn't last. They would meet in the middle. Damnit, they would, or Juuhachigou would break his neck.

Shoes and socks kicked and peeled off. _Pants_.

Still he mumbled nonsense about commitment and monogamy. Vows, and alarmingly, _marriage_. Sugar plums and children, twins, in that nauseating head of his. Juuhachigou had to clear that out.

"Fine then. We won't. Guess I'll have to take care of myself then. Where do you keep all your porn?"

"Juu—"

"Forget it." She looked him over, at what was beneath her, admiring, and took her time. "This will work."

"'Work'? Oh. Oh, no."

Krillin's fearful face really was an aphrodisiac, and that explained _everything._

Sitting right on him, touching herself and staring him over, hands tracing his nipples, and still the fighter managed to not lose his mind. Admirable, truly. Though there was nothing dignified about his noises or that face he made when she took off her underwear.

Exposed and still in charge, exactly as Juuhachigou had figured.

Her little toy squirming and panting, even though she was the one getting off.

"Fine, oh fine fine. Please."

Juuhachigou almost hoped her hair and the darkness hid her grin. It was, almost certainly, too _evil_. "Are you begging?"

"Are you real?"

It was equally flattering and irritating that he acted as though she were some untouchable goddess.

"No," she deadpanned. "Should I stop?"

He really had no idea what to do with his hands. They were awkwardly bunched around his hips. Practically dripping blood, from the force of how they were clenched, nails digging in. How to explain those marks later.

"Please don't."

That open desperation of Krillin really was his best and worst trait. Juuhachigou nearly kissed him, until he started up again. "I've never met anyone as wonderful as you before."

Take _that_ , Goku.

Ugh.

"You only say that 'cause I'm willing to undress in front of you."

"No. No."

Now he was giving her those eyes again. The dangerous ones that had been hinted of in that strange place of talking magic dragons and dead people coming back to life. They spoke of butterfly kisses and embarrassing nicknames and brunch. She saw everything he wanted in those round liquid-black eyes. A greased slide into a relationship. No matter how he must have struggled to scramble out—at first. Surely even in this insanity, Krillin must have known better than to have feelings for someone that wanted to murder him and his friends. Until some sick moment where he'd decided to toss that remote aside, his own sanity aside, and decide that yes, he wanted her. His fondest highest hope.

Before, there had been confessions, if not outright, of some unbelievably sappy puppylove and now they would be uttered and Juuhachigou would despise Krillin again.

A tonic. One that she agreed with, but not now.

Juuhachigou was way too close to let Krillin ruin everything with his stupid feelings.

Oh, that heat. His groaning. He had to be quieter. Just whimper and rock his hips, like she was. Eyes fluttering. This was—not entirely new but different. Similar. These red shoes worn with those pants as she hadn't done before. Just _different._

Warmer.

It took forever to stop feeling so sensitive. Stop shivering. Now he was touching her, running his thumb over her hipbone. Mumbling nonsense and trying to kiss her and nuzzling when Juuhachigou pulled her mouth away. His skin really was smooth. Even his scars looked wholesome. The underwear needed to go.

She slid a hand between them, less as a reward, more from curiosity and sadism.

Three and a half pumps.

Krillin sounded like a rabbit stuck in a trap.

They both looked at each other.

Unexpected. And yet not. Still, a disappointment. A messy, grossly warm disappointment all over her right hand and a little on her stomach. Now he would roll over or just start in with the proposals. Either way, the evening was rather cut short. At least she'd taken her clothes off beforehand. Less jokes to deal with when she got home and threw things in the wash. You back this soon? Shut up.

Juuhachigou was going to borrow one of her brother's shotguns. If only to see how much damage _could_ be done to the fighter heaving under her.

Or maybe she would just snap his neck.

"I hope you understand that just because you have no restraint that doesn't mean we're done." She was nearly yelling, and that was how they'd be found, exactly like this.

"What?" Something new and unsettling came over that round face. That expression. That might be—s _mugness_? Was he enjoying this, being bossed about by her? That explained everything.

Oh, she was just getting started. If only to startle that look off Krillin.

That look. A little more relaxed. But not sleepy, definitely not. Oh.

_That_ might have only taken the edge off. Onto her hand. There was so much of it.

Oh. Oh, god. Juuhachigou might have been better off bringing a towel. Amazing that the blankets under them were not stiff. If only there were more layers to dull the noise. They might break the floorboards under them. Weren't there others in the other rooms? Thankfully that magic dragon could bring them back should the destruction reign down particularly hard. This house could literally be destroyed.

So be it.

Krillin was smiling, and she really was damned for coming here. And blessed.

He was much more than she expected. The voice and features the same, and still annoying, but she had never known about all of him, and not the warmth and weight of him. Even when Cell had briefly made them crash into each other. All of his feelings pinnacled and now leaking down her palm. Never before had the blonde cyborg truly noticed the certain way his eyes crinkled and the span of his mouth and hard bulging muscles.

Really, his shoulders had to be taken into account properly. Especially when your legs were touching them.

Finally, he looked startled again by her shoved him downward. "Would, ah, would you like me to-?"

As though he had a choice in the matter. Juuhachigou pushed his head further down. "If you don't, I'll twist your head around."

"Then I won't be able to do this."

"I never specified _which_ head."

"Ouch. Guess I have to then, don't I?" Let him have that cheeky smile. If that made him feel like he did have any control, she would allow it, if only briefly. Until Krillin was done. If he even knew what he was doing. Probably learned this from porn.

…just like she had.

Juuhachigou had always thought of him as the kindest of his group. No, he was the worst, the cruelest, most sadistic.

Two fingers to gently spread the folds, feel his breath, and then he—fuck. He was _pausing_. Just looking up and waiting. "…You're _not_ seeing anyone, though, right?"

" _If you keep talking_ —"

Krillin wisely cut her off in the best fashion.

Dutiful and thorough. Almost shy at first, until she (somewhat accidentally) slapped the back of his head with her knuckles and that exhale in pain nearly made her whimper. Juuhachigou had no idea before how warm, how wet, someone's tongue could, in fact, be. Teeth that were cautious and blunt. You couldn't see his ceiling anymore, or mind the hard boards under your back at a certain point. If only he had hair so she could grab him better. He could thankfully hold his breathe a long time.

It turned out Juuhachigou had been rather unfair when accusing Krillin of being unreasonably loud.

Yet if he stopped, both of them would die.

Blood thrumming. She could go blind, just like this. Die, gladly. The best way to go out, such a kinder fate than her previous half-death. And Krillin, this was how he should have faced death rather than all those messy explosions and broken necks.

"Better than the shower attachment," she slurred, rolling away.

"Isn't it?"

Krillin waited, while she made a fool of herself.

He even stroked her back lightly and nearly hummed as she tried to remember dignity. Curled up, but knowing he had to be faced, and this was why she had come all this way for. Krillin had done exactly what she'd wanted and demanded of him, just like the good sad puppy he was. You are still in charge. So just deal with like an adult. Roll over and fix her hair and look away with a sigh. That had been alright enough.

Juuhachigou could get used to this, and that made her all the more uneasy.

He did his best not to grin too widely. "Okay?"

She didn't want to so obviously feign disinterest. Yet couldn't _not_. "Yes."

When Krillin attempted to hold her hand, Juuhachigou made sure to shut that nonsense down immediately. "Knock it off."

"Can't seem to help it. Especially when you're around. Have I told you yet how much I care for you, Juuhachigou? I'm still amazed you're here. Any second it feels like I'm going to wake up. Why are you here? Did you miss me?"

His chin was still slick, she noted. "Is it out of your system yet?"

"Never. That's the thing. I missed you."

Alright. Enough. She settled onto his lap, nearly forgiving him at the sudden intake of breath. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Infuriating, how happy Krillin looked. Gentle, even when Juuhachigou grabbed his hands and forced him to confront when he'd only gaped at stupidly before. Were these what he liked, particularly sought out for? Was he—disappointed, or adjusting his expectation? To his credit, Krillin looked utterly enamored and his rough hands, the only rough thing about him, were cautiously exploring her. One hand cupped her left breast, thumb tracing circled around her nipple while the other stroked her stomach.

Blunt fingers, smooth and rough. Fingernails even but not sharp. He did not find himself biting them at odd moments through the day, that time after the sun had risen before the shadows reappeared when the cup of coffee had grown cold. Light black hair on the bent misshapen knuckles. A scar on his thumb. Hands could be very interesting.

Juuhachigou fumbled with him, relearning this part. The sharp intake of breathe nearly made the blonde smile. Until she looked up.

His face was way too close.

Ugh. _Him_? Again she remembered all the fact about his, his sweaty expressions and dumb stares and idiot looks. Never again would Juuhachigou be able to so much as think about him. Or make eye contact with any of his vigilante friends. Never tell Juunanagou any of this. Stick with the shower attachment from now on.

Still, she was having sex with that man here.

Krillin was definitely not that supposed-man from her fantasies before. He didn't even have any stubble. Or hair. Or a dimple in a strong chin. Instead he had that square set jaw, clean and smooth. Black molten eyes. Overly sentimental and weak, so weak. Those stupid ears. That missing nose. What was wrong with him—no, _her_?

Juuhachigou shoved him backwards.

Safer, this was. Don't even make eye contact. It might make destroy her resolve and she'd run right through the wall in order to escape. Or, worse, blush and give Krillin some sign that she really cared what he thought.

Just jump on him.

Hear him whimpering and whispering her name. "Juuhachigou. _Eighteen…Dear_. Dear one. Juuhachigou."

This was whom she was currently in the middle of fucking. Juuhachigou looked down at him, hair hanging into her eyes. "Shut up."

"I can't help how I feel."

"I will l _eave_."

"Now? Right now?"

"…shut up."

"Ever since we met I haven't been able to not think about you. Even when I knew I shouldn't—when you were still after my best friend, I couldn't stop. I hoped…I just hoped that you weren't… _evil_?"

Juuhachigou nearly paused.

"I never _dreamed_ that you might ever feel the same way. That we would ever be together. Kami, you're so beautiful. It hurts to look at you."

"Just be _quiet_."

"You have the most mesmerizing eyes."

It almost felt like an act of narcissism and masturbation. Only taken way further. Despite how her twin might mumble about how much time she spent shopping and on her hair, this was really care taken to an extreme. Amazing, disturbing, what he recalled and detailed and went on and on about, as though he were the one with programming and memory chips.

"Your laugh, your smile. Even when you were beating Vegeta up…"

Juuhachigou was actually embarrassed for him.

Just a little.

A lot of what Krillin was saying could be dismissed when his hand slipped down to where they were joined, and ah, then she didn't give a damn to what he was saying. He could go on and on about her hair if it kept his fingers limber. Finally, too, he found a better use for his mouth and everything was right in the world.

No matter how he clung to her and ignored her wincing. Everything else but that growing heat was given a shrug, _whatever._

The cyborg nearly didn't despise everything, for a brief moment.

Until she was sinking into him, just lying on him, nearly shaking and just _done._ Drugged and drunk. His heartbeat was as loud as her breathing. Krillin decided to finally shut up and just stroke her hair and pull the fallen sheet up around them both. There was an actual smell in the air of their fucking. This was his bed and she was in it with him and her head was resting on his chest with Krillin's fingers curling and massaging her scalp.

She lay there, feeling the sheets and his skin and his stare.

What _. Ever._

Juuhachigou nearly closed her eyes. Drunk as that time she'd gone bar hopping with her idiot brother and woke up on the damn roof, minus a shoe. Just as sleepy. Being drunk would have explained why she had done this. He would want her to stay, to never leave, to chain her down with commitment and clean blankets and his mouth.

Well.

Now would be a _very good_ time to just disappear.

Krillin sighed, loudly, when she began pull away. There were her pants. Definitely do not leave any underclothes behind; just thinking of that disgusted her. Get up and ignore his watery stare when dressing. Ugh. Really, _him_? The blonde could have slapped him, and told him to scrape together some dignity.

There was another sigh when she put her shirt on, and she nearly turned to stare him down. Somehow, her laces looked tangled, but never mind that. There would be more flying than walking, anyway. Just get out of here. Though she had to make sure she didn't trip and fall on her face like an idiot. Fall right on top of him, given her luck. "I'm going to leave now."

All but a whimper and now she did turn around.

God Krillin looked so pathetic. "Will you be back?"

I came back, didn't I? Ugh. What was wrong with her? Months ago, why had she said that to him? Cell. That was who to blame. She had been eaten and spat out by a monster, and couldn't be held accountable for what she'd said then. Except here she was, going along with Krillin's most vivid dream and fantasy.

He looked older, sitting up. In these shadows. Looking at her with eyes even darker. Arms slightly outstretched, muscles slack. Accepting.

The window opened so easily.

Tomorrow would be a long day of showering with a cold beer and lots of regret. It would all seem like some nightmare. Denial would probably slip in, and memories might fade. With enough time, Juuhachigou might even convince herself this hadn't happened.

And the day after tomorrow, and the day after that…?

This was not the first time Juuhachigou had seen this hideous house, and it wouldn't be the last, she suspected. Dreaded.

At least no one had to know.

"Is there anything I can do, to convince you to come back?"

She still did have complete control over this situation.

"Be less pathetic, maybe? Maybe keep quiet?" Less…fawning praises? Less of him being Krillin, whom she couldn't quite respect completely. But did, strangely _, like_ and was interested in, how he could even keep going and continuing on with his life. Where had he gotten that scar. If he was capable of just being _silent._ "Stop acting like some lovesick puppy?"

God she hated that expression on his face. That look. It wasn't like the ways Krillin had stared at her before. None of that fear, or so nervous or that jaw-tightened bravery was apparent. It took Juuhachigou a moment to understand what his emotion was. Krillin, he looked very nearly _happy_. "I do though. _You know_."

She knew way too much now.

"Shut up, Krillin."

Juuhachigou stopped at the window. And frankly, she was getting sick of looking _back_ at Krillin. "Don't tell anyone this happened."

His smile was young, beatific. "No one would believe me, even if I did."

She very nearly didn't say it. Another few centimeters out into the night air, further away from him. It would be easy to power up her unreal Ki, and just get away. But it just came out, tossed out over her shoulder, and before she even said it, Juuhachigou had a feeling she could make herself a liar. "See you later."


End file.
